


all roads lead home

by enredo



Series: it's about time [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enredo/pseuds/enredo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surprisingly, it all starts with Leo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. interlude

Surprisingly, it all starts with Leo.

 

“I don’t like him,” Neymar says, whines, pouting, trying to ignore Leo pressing small kisses in his hair, his face, down his neck.

 

“Hmm,” Leo hums contemplatively. “You just don’t know him well enough, Ney. I promise you, he’s just–”

 

“He’s what?” Neymar asks, hurt and jealousy probably written all over his face, and he makes a point of crossing his arms to hide his naked chest from Leo, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he’s not Cristiano Ronaldo. He’s not a man sculpted into looking like a god, and Leo’s probably had wild, incomparable sex with him and Neymar is… Neymar. He’s ready for Leo to start speaking poetry about him.

 

“He’s good to me. He’s a good person.” And of course, that’s just Leo, of course those would be the words he’d use to describe someone like Cristiano Ronaldo.

 

“Fine. Ok, I believe you,” He finds himself saying, in his mind just to drop the subject, but surprised he actually kind of does believe Leo. “How is he ok with this though? With us?”

 

Leo uncrosses Neymar’s arms from his chest, placing them above his head and going back to his previous task, sucking kisses down his collarbone, unpredictable patterns over his chest. “One, he likes you, he’s curious about you. Two, he’s not always here, and he knows how important you are to me, he believes me when I tell him how amazing you are.”

 

“You-- Talk about me. With him.” Neymar asks, punctuating his phrase to test it, see if it sinks in better. Leo smirks at that innocently, then kisses his ribcage, hands toying with the waistband of his shorts.

 

“Yes, _mi amor_ ,” Leo answers. “And three, he has someone there, too. Someone he cares about very much.”

 

“Oh?” Is the only thing Neymar manages out. It just doesn’t compute to him, how someone would ever have Leo and want anything else, anyone else, how they could just have space in their hearts to fit one more person. It was a foreign concept to him, that Leo didn’t consume every muscle under Cristiano’s skin, because that was how he felt about him. “Who?”

 

“I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you, Ney…”

 

“What? Not fair, he knows about me!” Neymar complains, pulling a face, the one he figured out would almost always work on Leo.

 

Leo, though, is too busy trying to avoid the subject, kissing the center of Neymar’s chest, then moving to lick at one nipple gently, tongue caressing and swirling around sensitive skin. Neymar’s hand goes straight to his head, grabbing a fistful of Leo’s brown locks and pulling slightly. Leo just moves unphased to the other nipple, repeating the same actions but scraping skin with his teeth, now, making Neymar let out a small whimper of pain, of oversensitivity.

 

Leo takes pity on him, moving to sit between Neymar’s legs, starting again with a kiss on the inner side of his knee, moving up slowly, darting out his tongue to lick at Neymar’s skin-- the higher he kissed, the more sensible Neymar felt, cock already interested.

 

“Stop distracting me,” Neymar accuses, but it’s already weak in his voice, Leo choosing that exact moment to suck a bruise in his inner thigh, making a shiver start at the bottom of Neymar’s spine and spread through his body, going straight to his cock. Leo sucks another bruise on the other side, almost identical, then stops to admire his work.

 

“Tell me!” Neymar says, because he’s sure as hell not going to be strong enough to ask later, not when he’s so familiarized with the way Leo gets when he has his hands and mouth and cock in him, the way he couldn’t stop licking and sucking and biting his lips, neck, his shoulder, any skin he could reach.

 

“It’s James.” Leo sighs defeatedly, reaching out to grab the waistband of Neymar’s shorts and pull it, sliding the fabric away from his legs. He lets his hands roam over Neymar’s thighs and up his sides, massaging smooth caramel skin.

 

“Ahh. That’s--” Neymar’s starts, but abruptly stops when traces the outline of his half hard cock through the material of his briefs. “Hm. He’s… Not you?”

 

Leo chuckles at that, looking up at Neymar with a ridiculously fond expression that had the power to make Neymar blush, make him want to squirm and show off to him at the same time. “No, he’s not. He’s a really nice kid. I like him.” Leo says like it’s nothing, and just now Neymar’s catching up on Leo’s strategy, the way he strips Neymar off his boxers to shut him up, hands spreading his legs-- And Neymar’s just helpless.

 

“Wait--” Neymar says, because he’s stubborn as hell, and grabs Leo’s hand to stop him from trying to get him out of the conversation. “You’ve met him? When? Why?”

 

“Yes, _mi amor_ , last time I was at Cristiano’s.” Leo shrugs. “A couple of weeks ago. Cristiano told me he was there and I suggested maybe we could meet properly.”

 

Neymar freezes. Meet properly. With Rodríguez. Now, Neymar had absolutely no problem with him, on the contrary, he’d met him a couple of times before, one of those which James had been extremely nice to him after an international match, had told him how good he was and to focus on his talent to try and calm him down and Neymar had listened, because the kid was really nice and soothing and shit. But that James, all over Leo? This wasn’t ok in Neymar’s book at all.

 

Also what, exactly, consisted the act of ‘meeting properly’? It wasn’t as if he needed any more people to share Leo with, especially not someone like James, with his warm eyes and his shy smile and his touching, the blush of his cheeks, his body… No. That was a no.

 

“Why? I mean, what--” He wanted to ask what happened, why he had such interest in meeting his boyfriend’s boyfriend or whatever Leo and Cristiano were, did they-

 

“Because I knew it was important to him, Ney. He would really appreciate if we got along, James and I.” Leo says calmly, even with a hint of a smile in his face. He sneakily frees his hands from Neymar’s grip, then takes advantage of Neymar’s focus to reach for the small bottle of lube he’d thrown on the bed earlier.  “We talked, then he went home. He’s funny, genuine, I see why Cristiano likes him so much.”

 

Neymar contemplates as he watches Leo slick up his fingers, sitting between his legs, and he looks gorgeous like that, the best thing Neymar’s ever seen. He pushes at Neymar’s legs until he’s spread out completely, filthily in front of him.

 

“Did you--” Neymar starts again, but Leo starts circling his entrance with one long, slicked up finger as if he has all the time in the world, focusing on the way Neymar’s body reacts instead of what he’s saying.

 

“Did I…?” Leo asks airily as he bends down to press a kiss on the inner side of Neymar’s thigh, lying down on his stomach to get leverage for what he was planning to do.

 

“Did you--” Neymar tries again, but cuts himself off immediately when Leo pushes the first finger in, gasping in both surprise and satisfaction at the slight intrusion. “Fuck, Leo.”

 

“Neymar, we just talked,” Leo answers, but he has a tiny smile on his face before he moves closer, hot breath against’ his skin, mouth so close to where Neymar really wants that it makes him shiver, makes his head spin.

 

“Ok.” Neymar says, mostly just because Leo starts mouthing lazily, purposefully along the length of his cock, just a brush of wet hot lips and tongue peeking out every now and then, but Neymar’s half hard already and then drips the first drop of precome, so Leo knows exactly what he’s doing, as usual.

 

He adds another finger in, and this time Neymar feels it for real, the weird stretch that was always a bit painful but mostly uncomfortable, the one moment when he wasn’t dizzyingly hard, but Leo works the fingers in and out slowly, only brushing when he finds that stop inside him, and then Neymar’s awake again, finally pushing down on Leo’s fingers in his own time.

 

“Fuck, more,” Neymar asks, because it’s now or never anyway, and he always gets impatient, wishing he didn’t have to get prepared every time he wanted Leo to fuck him real nice and hard.

 

“Why are you always in such a rush?” Leo smiles, and it’s filthy, how he looks like the perfect picture of composure, but between Neymar’s legs with his cock only inches away from his lips.

 

“Shit, I mean it, Leo, please,” Neymar whimpers a bit, because he’s impatient and never above begging. He pushes down purposefully again, fucking himself on Leo’s fingers because the more he tries, the slower Leo sets the rhythm.

 

“I wanted to ask you first…”

 

“Ask what? Fuck, anything, ask me anything.” Neymar’s air gets knocked off his lungs when Leo pushes a third finger in and immediately crooks them inside, hitting him spot on, making Neymar shut his eyes hard and see stars behind his lids.

 

“I want,” Leo says softly, moving his fingers inside Neymar, pressing on his prostate in a way that has Neymar groaning loudly, hands gripping the sheets hard. “I want you to meet him. It’s important to me, and like I said, he’s curious about you.”

 

He lets Neymar breathe for a second, removing his fingers only halfway so they’re not applying constant pressure on his prostate, but only waits a few seconds before pushing them in again.

 

“Shit, ok, whatever, anything, just--” Neymar says shakily. “Come on, fuck me, do it, I’m ready.”

 

He knows it’s a low blow. He knows that, even through the haze of pleasure, but he doesn’t really care, not when Leo finally has his cock buried deep inside him, fucking the most obscene moans out of Neymar, sounds he never thought he’d make during sex.

 

“If I do it,” Neymar asks when he flips them and reverts their positions, leaving Leo spread down on the bed while he straddles him, the new position getting Leo’s cock impossibly deeper inside him. “And that’s if--”

 

“If…?” Leo waits for him to continue, finally out of breath from the way Neymar starts rolling his hips, only preparation for how he plans on riding him.

 

“Yes, if,” Neymar says, pushing himself up slowly, dragging Leo’s cock out of him almost entirely before dropping down again, fucking out a low, deep moan from the man under him, and mother of god, he never thought he’d be allowed to do this, he never thought he would have this man under him like this. “Will he be there? James, I mean.”

 

“Will that make it better or worse for you?” Leo asks.

 

Neymar stops all his movements, letting himself contemplate the situation as if he’s not sitting on Lionel Messi’s cock, as if he’s not driving Leo insane by the second. He needed to know, though, how James did it, how was it like with the two of them there.

 

“He should be there.”

 

“Ok,” Leo answers, but there’s a small smile in his lips, then, as if he’s relieved that that was Neymar’s answer, as if he’d been planning this the entire time. “He’ll be there, too.”

 

“Save the date, then.” Neymar says, ending the conversation and resuming his movements, moving up and down hard and fast and dirty, just the way he liked it, just the way he knew Leo loved, the way that made him dig his nails in Neymar’s thighs and stroke his cock just a bit too hard.

 

It doesn’t take too long like that, not when Leo has a rough grip on him as he brings him off, and Neymar comes all over his chest, hands gripping Leo’s shoulder, clenching around his cock. He lets himself lie down in his chest and doesn’t care if it’s going to be gross in a minute, just lets Leo hold him and fuck him earnest, hips snapping so hard that it makes Neymar whimper from where he has his face tucked into Leo’s neck, has him spasming at the overstimulation. Leo bites hard on his shoulder when he comes deep inside him a few seconds later-- but he doesn’t pull off right away, just holds Neymar there for a few seconds, lets Neymar have his turn at gentle kisses and nipping at skin.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments? i'm all ears


	2. intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cris and James thinks about things.

“He’s asking if you want to come with.” Cristiano says with all the naturality he masters at saying pretty much anything, even the most absurd things. Like, for example, telling James that Lionel Messi is inviting him to his house.

 

“Uh…” Is the only sound that comes out of his mouth while Cristiano looks at him amusedly, eyebrow raised.

 

“Is that a yes or a no?”

 

“I don’t--” James tries again, and feels pretty incompetent and stupid, just standing there with his mouth opening and closing. “I mean--Why?”

 

Cristiano chuckles at that, and mumbles something into the phone that James can’t hear, not from where he is in Cristiano’s kitchen making breakfast while the other is pacing around and talking in hushed sounds.

 

“He said he likes you.” Cristiano says simply.

 

Well.

 

“Uh, are you sure? I mean,”

 

“He’s sure.” Cristiano stops behind him, pressing a kiss to the back of his ear, the spot he knew made James squirm from the sensibility, then chuckles at the reaction he knew he’d get.

 

“Ok, yeah, I’ll come with.” He says, because you don’t just turn down an invitation from Lionel Messi without a good reason, and you sure as well don’t deny it when it comes from both Cristiano and him, because no reason would be good enough.

 

“Perfect,” Cristiano says, to both him and Messi – _‘Call me Leo, everyone does.’_ “He’ll be there. Ok, yes, don’t worry. I-- me too.”

 

He won’t deny it’s weird. Not in a bad way precisely, it’s not, but he can’t help feeling that he’s intruding something whenever he remembers Cristiano has some sort of relationship with Messi – With Leo. He’s Leo to Cristiano, always Leo, in the way he speaks about with or with him on the phone, the way his voice goes soft, amused, fond in a way he never would have imagined Cristiano would talk about the one guy who stands in his way from being the best, his biggest rival.

 

Cristiano, who loves to win more than he loves most things, speaks about the one man who gets in the way of that with something he can’t help but compare to love.

 

It’s not jealousy James feels, it’s almost guilt he feels, as if he’s taking Cristiano’s time and touches and kisses just because he can, just because Leo’s not there -- but _he_ is and Cristiano feels lonely most of the time, _felt_ lonely until James arrived . It was like this moment right there, where in a second Cristiano was sitting on the table watching him cook, looking sated and content, but the moment after his phone rings and his whole posture changes, he beams at the phone and James doesn’t have to hear, he doesn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it is.

 

Then he met Messi – _‘Call me Leo, James, really. I don’t mind.’_ – And he understood why. It was kind of amazing, seeing them interact, seeing the way they smiled at each other discreetly, seeing a kind of trust akin to a wall around them, keeping the rivalry and the tabloids outside. Inside Cristiano’s house, they were Cris and Leo, and how could James ever even think of staying between that?  And the worst part is that Leo never once told him to back off, to go away, to leave Cristiano alone. He never seemed possessive, never even looked at James with anything but fondness, and it almost drove him crazy to the point he had to leave, had to tell them goodnight and leave them alone because it was a little too much.

 

Even Nino loved Messi, talked about him all the time and Cristiano would just watch proudly with a little smile on his face as he unlocked his iPad to let Nino watch videos of his biggest rival, of his lover. It keeps James wondering what it would be like if Cristiano and Leo lived in the same city, played for the same team. It’s something impossible, something that’ll never happen, but god if it doesn’t leave James wondering.

 

“Why are you silent all of a sudden? Nervous?” Cristiano teases, phone long forgotten on the table in order for him to put both hands on James’ hips, under his own shirt James had stolen. James turns off the oven and Cristiano immediately turns him around, presses him against the counter with a smile on his face.

 

“Don’t be nervous, you’ve met him. He really does like you.” He says again, trying to ease some of the tension James clearly was feeling.

 

“You’ve said that, but… Why? He has no reason to.”

 

Cristiano smiles widely at that, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t think anyone who met you could ever not like you.”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“Yes, it is. You don’t even see the effect you have on people, it’s absurd.” Cristiano laughs and James shoves at his chest, half embarrassed and half annoyed at this, the way Cristiano would talk about him sometimes, even to other people, as if James was something amazing he discovered.

 

“Shut up, let’s eat.” James says, trying to end the subject because he felt his blood running hot in his face.

 

“Wait, there’s one more thing.” Cristiano says, trapping him against the counter so he can’t leave. “I think it’s very possible that Neymar will be there. If that’s okay. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

 

Even with the feeling he’s being set up for something, hearing that the Neymar will be there is… Comforting. He’s met Neymar before briefly, younger and stubborn and gorgeous Neymar. He knew he had some sort of similar arrangement with Messi, knew that there was something going on there, too. Maybe they were bringing both of them to let them down easy, or to try or set them up, or maybe – Maybe.

 

“Are you planning an orgy or something?”

 

Cristiano laughs at that, open and stupid, in that way his eyes get crinkly on the corners and it makes him shine, makes James love it. “Not really, no. He just wants the four of us to meet. I haven’t met Neymar, not like this, as a friend.”

 

“He won’t like you.” James is only half joking.

 

“Why do you think that?” Cristiano asks, pouting, but he’s not really offended. He’s absolutely amused and James wants to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

 

“Because you’re annoying. Now let me have breakfast, I’m starving.” James says, but he can’t do much when Cristiano stops him by pressing his whole body against his, muffling his protests by kissing him, deep and slow and insisting.

 

-

 

Of course he falls right into his trap, right back in his bed -- _after his protests of no, Cris, we eat here, Nino eats here,_ and Cristiano annoyingly dragged him back to his room.

 

He often wonders how this became his life, being sprawled in Cristiano’s ridiculously huge bed with his cock inside said bed owner’s mouth, one hand gripping at the expensive sheets and the other resting on the back of Cristiano’s head, not pushing or forcing, just touching.

 

“Why,” Cristiano pulls back with a pop, mouth sliding along his shaft, already dripping with saliva and precome. Morning sex was a fucking great idea so far. “Did your mind just went straight to orgy?”

 

“What?” James asks, confusedly and not really up for small talk while he just wants to go back at being sucked off.

 

“You’re dirty,” Cristiano says between licks, between sliding his lips up and down James’ cock teasingly, too satisfied with how James was getting more worked up by the second. “Your mind– Thought of an orgy almost immediately.”

 

“You can’t– Shit,” James breathes out, and he’s really barely in condition to have this talk, not when Cristiano takes him inside his mouth again, hollowing his cheeks and sucking him slow and dirty. “It was– a joke.”

 

“Hm,” Cristiano hums around his cock before pulling off again, breath only ghosting against the slick head sending shivers up James’ spine. “So you haven’t thought about it? At all?”

 

“You have?”

 

“Maybe,” Cristiano says, crawling up his body, letting James pull him in for a kiss, tasting himself in Cristiano’s tongue. “Ok, definitely.”

 

“Yeah?” James asks breathlessly, because fuck, that is a nice thought to have, especially hot when Cristiano grinds his own hard on against his, their cocks trapped between them but the friction not enough yet, not nearly enough but delicious at the same time.

 

“Yeah. Want me to tell you?” Cristiano tries to move, and James doesn’t know why, doesn’t want to, he just wants this. He always thought it was filthy, for some reason, getting off just like this, just by rutting against each other, but he doesn’t want to move. Cristiano seems to get it, smiling almost predatory at him before pressing down harder, letting James do his thing, roll his hips a few times before finding the perfect angle, the one where their cocks are sliding against each other perfectly and it makes them both groan, makes Cristiano breath hotly in his ear.

 

“Fuck, yeah, tell me.” James asks, because why the hell not.

 

“Hmm sometimes it’s just me and you and Leo, I’ve told him that, having him fuck me while I suck you off– Get myself off high and hard just thinking about it. Would you like that?”

 

“Yeah.” And he’s surprised to find out that, yes, he’s like that. Shit.

 

“Or maybe,” Cristiano says, groaning a bit when James bites down hard on his shoulder. “Maybe you’d like to get fucked by him, put on a good show for me. God, you don’t know– Don’t know how I get when he fucks me, his cock is -- you have no idea how gorgeous you’d look.”

 

“Fuck– Like you’d be ok with no one giving you attention.” James says, trying to control himself even with the images of Cristiano getting fuck flooding his mind, because he’s going to come embarrassingly soon if he doesn’t.

 

“Hm, maybe I’d have Neymar keeping me company while we watch, let him have a good look at you and Leo while he gets all wound up watching him fuck you with that thick cock of his.”

 

“Shit, Cris, come on–” James moans brokenly when Cristiano grips both of them in his hand, and brings his own to help while they stay just like this, deliciously bringing each other off together, hands finding the perfect rhythm that’ll make both of them not last for long.

 

“Or maybe Leo would watch with me,” Cristiano says smirking. “Maybe you’d like to have Neymar all spread out to you. You think I haven’t seen the pictures? How touchy you were with him in that game while he was all angry? Fuck, you’d look gorgeous together– have him

moaning all prettily under you while you fuck him hard.”

 

His orgasm hits him almost blindly at that as his hand tries to fall of rhythm, but Cristiano won’t let him, keeping their hands steady as James comes, spasming under him at the thought of them and the feeling of Cristiano. It doesn’t take Cris long, either, coming hotly and seconds after by their joined hands, spilling filthily between James’ thighs.

 

He drops down to kiss at James’ collarbone, smiling dumbly at him, making James chuckle because, really, how did this become his life.

 

“So now you’ve thought about it.”

 

James rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

 

“Come on, let’s shower, breakfast’s gone cold already.”

  
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” James fights back meaningless, unable to keep the smile off his face at the simplicity of this, of arguing over who thought morning sex before breakfast was a good idea. He doesn’t know how his life turned out like this, but at the moment, it was kind of great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooo? i would talks lengths about the difference between james and neymar but i'll let you guys do that part. as always, un-betaed but who cares at this point?

**Author's Note:**

> as all of my previous works, this was proof read once but i'm responsible for all the mistakes since i'm severely sleep deprived and very lazy. am i the first person to write this foursome? well, that's disappointing for both you and me, bc i'm a garbage can.


End file.
